


So much power would turn anyone mad

by Floofy



Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Blood, Blood and Gore, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Child Abuse, Child Death, Corruption, Dark, Graphic Description, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Knife Wounds, Mind Control, Time pieces, Violence, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 02:38:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17256059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floofy/pseuds/Floofy
Summary: The Conductor gets a hold of a time piece or maybe more than one. Its hard to tell but there's definitely something not right.(This is a BIG WARNING this is super dark and not for little kids so like...be warned folks.)





	So much power would turn anyone mad

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyy this is super fucked up! So be warned! 
> 
> Conductor and Grooves are human if that makes it any better? :')c
> 
> This is based on my headcanon that the time pieces can corrupt you after using them too much or having too many dark thoughts for them to pray on and basically the thought of power takes over and its basically a big fuckin mess.
> 
> This is also based on a comic im drawing but the roles are reversed and its actually a fight between human grooves and hat kid & cond so ill post some of it sooner or later on my art tumblr when im ready ;)
> 
> *edit: fixed a bit of spelling and a few lil mistakes :^)

The Conductor stands over the young diva menacingly, all familiarity in his features vanishes as the bloody knife quivers in his hand; what seems to be a sickening excitement bringing to life his once cold, dead eyes. He's taking a few steps forward, following the child as she crawls away as fast as possible, mindful of her bloodied hand as it drips to the wood beneath her but Grooves stops him in his tracks almost as if out of the blue.

The DJ is quick in his actions, pushing the crazed man away from the once hatted kid in a speed the Conductor didn't expect. He's slammed against the wall before he can react and finds his knife wielding hand pinned up near his head, despite it all he just smiles a wicked smile up at the DJ, now face to face and in easy stabbing distance.

"Stop it!" Grooves shouts. "She's just a child, darling, what an earth do you think you're doing?!" There's a confused desperation in his expresion as he searches for an answer in his colleagues eyes.

The Conductor just chuckles at such a question and with an unnatural flash of the eyes, the knife disappears into his other hand, not even a second later it's driven down, curved and with precision into the DJ's coat and then its searing through skin. Grooves screams and the Conductor laughs and Hat Kid can only watch in terror from below as someone she had considered a friend becomes even more and more deranged with power.

Theres an attempt to flinch back and away from the pain, but the Conductor anticipates his poor "friends" attempted escape; his once pinned hand morphing into thick claws that dig deeply into the DJ's wrist, quickly pooling blood to the surface and emitting another cry from the man in his grasp.

He giggles. Laughs. Cackles and revels in the power that the time piece brings him and thinks forwards at all the outcomes now possible with the power so easily bestowed upon him. Deepest darkest wishes he'd only thought tangible in dreams race to the front of his mind and he realises he wants to grant them **A L L**.

But first he needs to kill this son of a bitch DJ and the child brat too.

So the knife twists slowly and painfull, burrows deeper and deeper, all the way up to the hilt until tears stream down the fuckers face and he's chanting, begging and sobbing for it to stop.

"C-c-con-d- ple-ase- st-op it p-please- I-I c-can-t-"

The claws as sharp as daggers themselves rip away from dainty wrist flesh and instead find the fabric of Grooves' beautiful red _red_ **_red_**  jacket. What once was The Conductor twists them around now, swapped, and no longer does the height difference matter. He watches in sickly satisfaction as the man now below him, so so far below him, struggles to stand. Its a worthless effort, the knife, so beautiful, is deep enough now that he wont survive, but by god is he still struggling.

It would be impressive if The C________ didn't have somewhere else to be.

"What do ye still have to live for, eh? You're already dead, y'know that right? You stupid feckin' bastard? Eh?! _Just Give Up!_ "

There's a pitiful, small weepy noise coming from behind them as the child cries, she's bleeding too, red so much red, but without her hats theres naught she can do. He has the time pieces now, He's the one In Control. Impatiently he shakes the DJ. Blood is starting to drip to the floor and crawl from the corners of his mouth dispite its slow upturn into a sad smile.

His body rattles at the force of a wet cough.

"I-I d-don-t wann-a die..." Grooves whispers sweetly. "I al-always imag-ined u-us becomin-ing good f-f-friends in o-our f-future..."

___ _________ lets out a smile himself. Yes. That was certainly a possible outcome. Too bad it was a boring outcome.

He waits just a few more seconds, lets just a few more lines of blood drop, pretends to think over the suggestion, before he talks.

"Maybe next time."

Then the knife is removed from the DJ's side.

Grooves gasps, shudders and chokes, tries fruitlessly to cover up the gapping wound with his hands but its to no avail, the blood won't stop coming and it slips slick like tar between his finger tips. He thumps to the ground without a single bit of grace, a glistening blood trail chasing after him down the wall and its beautiful. Just like the pool that gathers by his thigh and ____________ smiles as the last hints of life fade away from behind jet black eyes.

Success.

The beautiful knife is whiped across a silken handkerchief once hidden in a pocket; not yet used but perfectly suitable for the job, and the surface if the utensil becomes clean and shiny once more infront of the dainty divas watery, reddened eyes.

She looks up into the eyes of the madman.

"Your turn, lassie."


End file.
